


Teaching

by ARMEN15



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25401286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARMEN15/pseuds/ARMEN15
Summary: A new mission, a new contract for a faceless man, who needs to teach something new to his lovely girl. Something very private indeed....This work  is a few months old, hidden in my PC and I've decided to post it now because it is more completed than other WIPs I have. My professional life is at the worst time of the  year (tax time here, like every July) and so I am a little late in updating my other fictions. please trust me to complete all
Relationships: Jaqen H'ghar/Arya Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

The Kindly Man briefly touched the shoulder of a man after they left the council room where a meeting had been held.

A man stopped and understood his Master wanted to discuss a reserved topic with him; the older man lead the way to the hall of faces, walking along the endless corridors around the central court of the House.

A man was silent, waiting to hear the reason of the talk.

“Your apprentice is no more a girl. Our sister told me she asked for a remedy for her monthly pains.”

“Just so.” A man admitted, with a little discomfort he wanted to hide.

When Jaqen had noticed that for two days during each month, for a total of three in a row, Arya was weaker and unable to proper fight, he had been concerned; he wanted to talk with her, then he met Umma holding a basket outside Arya’s bedroom door. At his question, the cook lifted the blanket covering hot stones from the fireplace and explained their use to soothe the back and stomach cramps a girl was suffering each month since she started bleeding; Jaqen felt stupid for not having imagined: it was simply nature following its course, Arya could not remain a child forever. Umma stared at him with an accuse of insensitivity in her eyes: men, brothers, faceless, all the same, unable to see and understand things woman related.

“She is seventeen and one now.” The Kindly man continued. “Her training is going well, she’ll be examined soon.”

“The council will find her suitable.”

“I have no doubt, she has a skilled master.”

“A man simply shows her his knowledge.” Humility and moderation, a man need to be cautious, defensive somehow, hia master can read him easily.

“We all know, Jaqen, all of us.”

A man remained impassive but a small twist of his head revealed his surprise to be called so by his former teacher. Arya’s impulsivity could harm her, although the Kindly Man declared it was of minimal importance that she used a name for a man since she entered the House.

“Are you pretending she don’t call you by that name?”

“A man admits so.”

The older man smiled, a rare occurrence for him.

“And you consider her your lovely girl?”

“That was used only…”

A raised hand stopped every attempt at explanation, the council was already aware Arya’s case was different from the others. 

The apprentice from Winterfell was at the House for a purpose known to the God only, her long and impegnative training would let her follow her destiny, whatever it would be, meantime she had to be considered in the same way as the other apprentices.

“There is a mission for you, more delicate than usual. In Urnesos.”

Used to obey without hesitation, for once a man thought Urnesos - a far peninsula with a very hot climate - was the least appreciated place to go on a mission. Their strange social customs were difficult to manage also for a faceless, using masks would require a great effort and a long rest when completed.

Some reports were just voices from the merchants – cannibalism of the enemies killed in war or leaving deformed children and old people to die in the desert – some were true, like open marriages, free sexuality and education given to children by the society and not by the family.

“You’ll go with your apprentice. A couple is needed, a very young woman, to increase our targets’ interest in you.”

“With my apprentice?”

The surprise was so strong Jaqen forgot for a while his Lorathi speaking and let something he concealed deep within himself slip out.

His master nodded.

“But the girl is the unpractical choice for such a task. She has mastered well the ability to conceal expressions and thoughts, but she’s never been exposed to Urnesos’ way of life. “

“You’ll take faces with you, it isn’t safe to use yours there, but the pressure you’ll be subjected to requires attention. You have to be at ease, body and mind, and also with each other.”

The kindly man had anticipated every possible remark from his most skilled brother.

It was a matter of trust, inside the House the bond between the girl formerly known as Arya and her teacher was no secret. The sisters were few in the order and although they could wore one of the faces and change appearance, they didn’t share days and weeks of closeness with a man.

“Whatever happens there, she’ll rely on you and you on her, It’s undeniable.”

“A man was not meant to rely...” The Kindly Man stopped Jaqen.

“Brother, she’s here because the Many Faced God gave his blessing, until the reason is revealed to us, you’ll take care of her.”

“It’s not so easy to go to Urnesos for her, a girl is still a maiden.”

“Uncommon and unpractical in our order, it’s time she receives more training. You should have completed that part long ago. If you believe you’re inadequate in teaching her about male and female activities behind closed doors, the nightingale or the handsome man could take your place. Maybe she’d like our brother, since she calls him so?”

“She went to pleasure houses to observe courtesans and whores.” Jaqen tried to defend his cause, he met a wall.

“Observing is not practicing, brother, she needs it for the mission. Do you remember how I organised your first time?”

  


Later, when Jaqen retired in his room, deep in thoughts, he examined the situation: the idea to ask help in such a delicate matter was unpleasant, he was her teacher, his was the task, his personal history heavy on him.

His first time at fifteen and ten, three years into his training, when he was debating his ability to hide himself and his past behind the faces of the God, had been embarrassing – if embarrassment could belong to the faceless – because when his master lead him into a bedroom, one of the maids, a short woman with large breasts, was already naked under a thin sheet.

  


_The master ordered him to get undressed and to lie on the bed; the woman did all the work, preparing him with her hands and mouth – when he felt her lips on him, the first time someone ever touched him down there, he wanted only to run away, his cheeks blushed, he closed his eyes, ashamed for what she was doing to him and for how he was responding - and she rode him until she got her pleasure. He felt confused, heat in his loins, desire to push up, then a blessed relief when something from his member spilled forth and he felt more wetness on his crotch. The woman above him stilled then stood up and left, not looking back. She hadn’t touched him more than strictly necessary, nor kissed or caressed him. He meant nothing for her, he was a body only, a piece of flesh. How many other acolytes or brothers did she had, before and after him?_

_He cleaned up his navel with a rug and run to the baths where he spent an hour in the tub to get himself clean of her scent and her touch_. _It had to be done, he realised only much later._

  


He didn’t want for Arya a similar outcome; during his missions he had to have sex with various people wearing masks, never feeling at ease as other brothers were; probably signed by his earlier experience. 

He could be the wrong man to teach Arya about sex, not so expert as she imagined he’d be, but he sure would be the one who could be supportive and tender and show her there was nothing to be ashamed of.

  


  


  


But he had felt obliged to bow his head in respect with his former master: order received, order fulfilled. Still, a new, unfamiliar feeling was taking root in his gut: skilled in weapons of deaths, a man was unused to those that could bring joy in life.

The former master had seen the truth, a man considered himself more than a teacher for the girl, so he used a kind voice when they parted.

“There are no rules for this kind of training, you could set a meeting in a pleasure house with a stranger or with someone the girl may fancy. I am sure there is someone she likes. You’ll find the right man, I’m sure. ”

  


The following evening a man left the archive of books with four heavy volumes and knocked at his apprentice’s bedroom.

She opened the door and stared at him - books were seldom moved from the reading room – while he placed them on the narrow table, more a high bench than a real one, then opened each at the pages he left feathers into.

“A girl has to study about Urnesos, it is her next mission with a man for a future contract. They will travel there together.”

Jaqen spook in a neutral tone, devoid of the emotions he wanted to submit, so he refused to meet her eyes; Arya was puzzled and at the same time positive at the idea of a mission with him, she ruled her face not to show her feelings, but she was glad to travel with him. The place was quite far, it was a long travel from the House.

“How many time do I have to read them?”

At closer observation, the books were large and written in a language of the South she still wasn’t able to grasp well.”

“A moon. There’s more to learn, you’ll receive special lessons.”

“Another weapon? More poisons? Who’ll teach me?”

A glint in her eyes at the idea to use new swords or daggers.

“A different kind of weapon, one very personal. A body. The name of the teacher will be revealed soon. ”

He left without offering more explanations, Arya was surprised of his behaviour and evident uneasiness, she was sure her master was hiding something.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting interesting....

Jaqen used the few days Arya was busy reading the books to think how to proceed.  
At first, he excluded his brothers, they all knew his exclusiveness with Arya, it would reveal a lack of skill if he asked another faceless to take his place for such an intimate act.   
A stranger wasn’t a great idea, too, Arya didn’t like to be shown off, Braavos people or travelers could recognize her as a northern girl.  
Voices about the whereabouts of Arya Stark were widespread, especially after her mother and older brother’s death. Jaqen didn’t trust her to lay with someone using a face and a body, she was still a novice and the first time had to be felt for real.   
A man remembered his lovely girl had two friends in Harrenhal, years ago.  
He wondered if she would like one of them to be her first and the sudden bad taste in his mouth wasn’t related to the wine he drunk the previous evening during a surveillance at the tavern.   
The fat boy or the bull boy.  
From the size, the first was probably more interested in eating than fucking, a kind heart who probably would see Arya as a sister only, not as a lover.   
The second posed more doubts and dangers.   
Strong, broad shoulders, dark hair and the irruence of youth, surely with his own share of young maids bedded, able to offer Arya a good roll in the hay, to keep her pleased and satisfied, hoping she’d fell for him and leave the house to become his only. Jaqen’s vision darkened for a few seconds, his heart pounded in his chest with another rhythm, his mind created a future good sense told him maybe was false, but he could not keep himself to prevent that line of thought.  
The bull boy would drift a wedge between a man and a girl, who could leave and never get back, forgetting her revenge and all she endured to became a faceless.   
A man was so deep in thought he didn’t heard steps approaching, until he jumped up when a small hand touched his shoulder.  
She had startled him, a rare occurrence, a crack in the composure of an assassin; she was the only one who could be faster and quieter than him.  
He was proud of her, a feeling split between awareness of a task achieved and realization sh was important for him as he was for her,   
She gave nicknames to everyone in the house, she named a man only.   
“Did I disturb you?”  
“No lovely girl, I was thinking about our next destination.”   
“Me too. I was trying to learn their language, it is so guttural.”   
“Stick to basic words, your ability will increase once there.”  
“The books say it is a very strange place, people are in open relationships and so on. It will be difficult to hide between them.”   
“We are not supposed to do so, instead to stand out so they’ll be curious about new travelers, they receive few visits due to their culture.”   
She opened one of the texts he gave her and pointed at the images of explicit couplings, Arya served as a maid in a pleasure house for a while but never witnessed some of the acts displayed.   
“They mate with visitors as a welcome gift, it’s worse than in brothels, they do it for free.”   
“Just so.”  
“And we will be visitors.”   
In his eyes she read the confirm of her assumptions; Jaqen may try, secrets were hard to keep with Arya Stark.   
“There’s more, look how they dress.”   
“It is a humid and hot land, storms are frequent, impractical to wear layers of clothes if they get wet.”   
“But they’re quite naked!”  
“Is a lovely girl upset at the idea to wear minimal clothes?”  
Arya didn’t care about her appearance, never was she interested in the fancy clothes Sansa was fond of, but her own nakedness was something else entirely and the nakedness of her master, too. She had seen his torso in the bathrooms and his legs defined by his tight breeches, the maleness from him was powerful, Arya had begun to realize.   
Their mission was going to be awkward indeed, Jqqen thought, noticing the redness on her cheeks and the way her eyes roamed all over his body.  
When she left, a man decided his best approach to the delicate problem: they had to practice nakedness before leaving, get used to the sight of the other with few clothes or no clothes at all. 

Arya followed her master into the training area, along a narrow staircase up to a small room, two large windows facing the sunrise; it was so bright nothing could be hidden there, a sharp contrast with the many shadows of the house.   
Jaqen opened a wooden box with two sharp and short daggers, for close combat, he explained.   
Then he pulled the belt at his waist and the robe fell from his shoulders, leaving him in his smallclothes only. He took off his boots and placed everything into a chest on the floor, after retreating from it a white fabric.   
Arya remained quiet, observing in silence Jaqen’s gestures.  
“There’s a storage room there, go and change into this. Keep your smallclothes only. A man won’t see you undressing.”   
Jaqen ordered Arya, handing her the item and pointing at a curtain opposite the door.   
Arya obeyed, having difficulties to understand front and back of the garment she was holding. It seemed a short tunic, thin and quite transparent, with three straps on each shoulder.  
Barefoot, she returned to her master and saw his eyes were focused on her face only, while hers were curious to room over his body.  
“In position!”  
She grabbed a dagger and at first they studied each other, moving sideways, like sinuous cats, planning the attack.   
Arya got closer, careful of his longer arms, an attack to his right shoulder , his dagger clashed with hers, she swiftly aimed at his chest and touched him briefly.   
“One!” She exclaimed, but before she could finish the word his dagger had cut one of the straps on her right shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise, there was something in Jaqen’as attitude , he wanted to win, loosing or a yield wasn’t an option.  
So the game was different, it was defensive, Arya changed tactics, waiting for Jaqen to go first; after endless saves, too close for Arya’s comfort, Jaqen did a serious move, forcing her backward, until she was against the wall.   
His left hand pinned her right one over her head, her dagger held still by his right hand, with a concentrated gaze he proceeded to make her dagger fell and cut a strap on the left shoulder.   
Carefully, without touching her skin.   
Then he freed her, not before she could read in his face the fast beating of his heart.   
Another attack, without a pause, another strap gone, he was fast, strong, she fought with all her strength to keep her shoulders protected, until there was only one strap left on her right shoulder, the fabric on the other one was barely enough to hide her cleavage.   
Arya tensed, her master was branding the dagger like his life depended from it, his composture had faded away, his eyes fixed on her upper body, looking at the intense breaths she was forced to take.  
Arya lost notion of time, she was tired, not physically but mentally, a hard game they were playing, one that was leading them into a new territory; his skin was sweaty, little drops falling from his hair and trailing along his chest.   
She readied herself for his last move, a sequence of attempts that made her retreat into the room. Drawing circular motions not to return too close to the wall.  
He was determined, a game he had to end, not to win, because he feared in the end she’d be the winner.  
When the lesson started, he was a faceless teacher, now he was the one who wanted only to see her alabaster skin.   
It was strange, it was wrong, it was unorthodox, and he did not care, the thin white strap was all his world, so concentrated he was on it.  
Arya was frantic to defend her shoulder, but Jaqen was wild, hands ready to strike, mouth open to bare his white teeth, his arm lowered hers with such a force to make her dagger fall.   
Their eyes met, without words she stood still while Jaqen passed the dagger under the last strap, leaving deliberately a thin red trail on her shoulder, until the fabric gave away and slide from her body, forming a white pool on the floor.   
Jaqen retreated, slowly, letting his visual field grow with every new bit of skin revealed; arya touched her shoulder and saw the blood, with a finger she wiped off it and cleaned her hand on his forearm.   
“We must be bloody, both.” She whispered.   
He was looking at her, observing her body, her collarbone, the small mounds with two brown buds, her ribs following her breathing, her flat stomach, with scars he felt guilt to have inflicted or allowed.   
“Just so.” Were the only words he managed to speak.   
“Now that you won, was all this combat just to see me naked? Do we have to continue fighting or simply discard everything and be done with it?”   
Jaqen had no voice, all his plan forgotten, his gaze returned to the injured shoulder, he wanted to grab her tunic, clear her skin and dress up Arya again, asking forgiveness, when she suddenly took off her last garment and stood naked in front of him. He was caught by surprise, unable to move.  
“Lovely girl, there is no need…”  
“It’s for our mission, isn’t it? A man and a girl posing as voyagers in a strange land. A new kind of lessons and the mysterious teacher.”   
“The training is complete.” To leave the room and don’t look back and forget Arya’s bosom.  
“No, it isn’t. A man sees a girl, now a girl wants to see a man. Off everything.”  
The apprentice transformed into master and the master at a loss for words.   
Arya did not seem embarrassed or shy, looking Jaqen into the eyes, lower lip chewed by her teeth, her sign of concentration.   
Resistance was futile, Jaqen’s hands grabbed the hem of his smallclothes and hesitantly started lowering them.   
Arya had already seen men naked, he thought, dead bodies and young acolytes taking baths, this was the first time she’d see a man, not a stranger but the one she was used to live with.   
He had started the game, he must conclude the show; tensed for her reaction, aware he was becoming hard, he swiftly completed the gesture before his body betrayed him more.   
Shallow breaths from her mouth, eyes exploring him, an appreciative smile, then Arya turned and disappeared behind the curtain to get dressed again.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time in his life as a faceless man, a mission was more a burden than a purpose. Jaqen decided to speak with his Master, asking to be exompted or to go alone; the House head did not allowed changes in the project, instead made questions about Arya’s development.   
“Time flies fast, have you took care of her maidenhead?”   
“Not yet.”   
“I gave you options, yours the choice.”   
The frightening and impossible truth was that Jaqen wanted - for the first time he remembered as an adults - something for himself, a desire unusual and uncommon for an assassin, still a desire that was eating his soul, because of his reluctance to admit the extent of his feelings for the lovely girl.   
He wanted her.  
In a way compatible with the order, within the order, staying in the order, but her only. 

The following evening the handsome man sat opposite Jaqen at the dinner table while the acolytes cleaned it; Arya took Jaqen’s cup, the handsome man followed her gestures.   
“So you haven’t completed her training, have you?”  
“We’re quite finished.”  
“Still lacking the funniest part.”   
His brother was mocking Jaqen, who was at a loss for words.  
“Brother, I can’t recognize you anymore. The perfect faceless man, the pride of the House, our dear master’s pupil. Unsure how to tear a piece of flesh.”  
“A man can cut every flesh he wants.”  
“Get her drunk and do it. Or get yourself drunk, if it is necessary, she’s pretty, a little too small but a woman indeed now. If you can’t, send her to me and it will be over in ten minutes.”  
“I will find the right way.”   
“You’re jealous, brother. Be careful, we aren’t allowed to possess, remember.”   
Jaqen stood up and left the room, the laugh of his brother following him, every turn he took along the endless corridors of the House.  
Maybe if he had been drunk, his first time, thing would have gone in a different way. Jaqen found himself outside her door, drawn like a moth to a flame, all the more since she strap bare in front of him, the vision taunting him every evening before sleep conquered him.   
Faceless don’t have desires, preferences, emotions, they are a blank sheet and arya stark was writing in blood on his, using his own blood, running more wild and alive than he ever felt.   
Did Arya Stark know what she was doing to him? Her face when she observed his body wasn’t exactly a mask to conceal her appreciation, her hands made fists, her nipples become harder - not for the cold, the room was bathed in a warm sun – her tights pressed together.  
She had wanted to see him, for their mission and he hoped for her curiosity, too; he had wished her to get closer, just a little, to touch her hand, her arm, nothing more, to feel if her skin was polished like the marble it appeared.   
Crazy ideas, foolish thoughts, the mind of a man starved for a human touch, he’d better be like his brother and go find a whore to ease the urge that was growing inside him.   
Jaqen left the House for the harbor, a path known so well he remembered every street, every door every tavern facing the landing. An old creaking door was the entrance to the cleanest brothel where the girls bathed once a week and the scent wasn’t too strong. 

A man stood on the pier. The touch of the whore with long blond hair was burning on his forearm, he did wrong accepting a cup of wine from her, it was good at first taste, now he felt disgusted by the smell in his throat, a waste of the precious nectar. There was only a woman he wanted for himself.   
He stopped at a fountain on his way back, to gulp water and clean his face and his hands under the jet.   
Approaching the house, Arya was sit on the front steps, her arm circling her knees; she waited until Jaqen was close.   
I was thinking to wait for you in your room, then I changed my mind.  
Why a girl needs to wait for a man?   
“To talk with him.”  
“We can talk here.”   
“Some things require a private space.”   
Her determination puzzled Jaqen, there was a new spring in her steps as they walked to his quarters, he opened his door and let her in.   
It wasn’t the first time she was there, but always as a girl, as a trainee, never as a lovely young woman.  
Arya sat on his bed, a bold move for a girl whose courage had always been greater than his, while Jaqen remained beside the door; they stayed silent until he felt it was becoming too embarrassing.   
“So, the matter you want to discuss?”   
“When we trained with daggers, you did … the naked part… for the mission, didn’t you?”   
“Yes.” Admitting that was easy, but her perception surprised Jaqen.  
“I imagined it. You wanted me to be comfortable with you. But it wasn’t enough….”   
“No, it wasn’t. But a man had to do it, at first it seemed a good idea, but then…”  
“Then?”  
“Then I wanted to see you because it were you, not thinking about tasks.”  
“And I wanted you to see me.”

Arya patted the bed beside her, inviting Jaqen to sit. On his own bed, with a role reversal, he complied, she was showing a behaviour different from the usual Arya, he was puzzled.   
Her body language had changed, their balance shifted, was it only in the privacy of a bedroom or would it shift in every other aspect of his life?   
Could he remain a faceless having a different, more intimate, relationship with the woman on his bed? Jaqen’s mind was a turmoil while he crossed the distance and sat on the creaking wood.   
Arya smiled, then her lip caught in her teeth and he had the want, the need, the urge to touch it, his hand moved forward, her eyes closed, the contact of finger on lip was brief and delicate, a shiver passed trough both of them.   
Her eyes reopened slowly, a new mischief hidden in them.   
The handsome man told me he offered you to take me to bed. I wanted to discuss the implications with you and saw you leaving the house, so I followed you down there.   
The idea she observed him entering a brothel, drinking wine with two whores, talking with them, touching their bodies, a gesture uncommon for Jaqen, was unpleasant to say the last.   
“A man didn’t bed anyone, he thought they could… help him.”   
“You don’t have to explain.”  
“I swear!”  
Anxiety made him slip again the third person speech.   
“Why it is important for you that I believe you?”   
“It is the most important thing for me. I was there but felt suffocating, I paid for the wine and soon returned here.”   
The confirmation of Arya’s surveillance; when she spotted him with the women she could not believe her master was searching for physical satisfaction in a place like that. He wasn’t on a mission, the handsome man had been clear in reporting her the crude suggestions he gave Jaqen.   
Disillusion be4cause her master could have asked her help, if so strong was his need, that way he’d be satisfied and she’d be trained for Urnesos; instead he went for a whore. Was she so ugly not to be considered a body to mate with? Should she ask the Handsome man’s help to appear more pretty?  
“Probably they’re very good in bed, they entertain men every night.”  
“A man doesn’t want entertainment with them, he is confused, he has a girl only he wants to be close to.”   
Arya’s soft smile signaled she would play his game, she felt reassured.   
“Are you going to see her?”   
A man wants to ask a girl if the trusts him enough to let him claim her and be her first. If she answer yes, a man promises to be kind and considerate to show her a nee pleasure.   
“So things will change between them?”   
“He promises to bed only her when he’s not away wearing a face. Can she do the same?”   
“She’ll decide after having proofs of a man’s abilities.”  
“Fair point. Now a girl can lie on the bed and let a man disrobe her.”   
Aand after there was her hand on his shoulder, while Jaqen opened her belt, her trusting eyes while he freed her from tunic and smallclothes, her skin paler than usual in the light of the oil lamp.  
Her hand grabbed his to pull him closer until he was naked above her, afraid to crush her small frame, but she parted her legs, an instinct old as time so he settled between them; when his lips covered hers, a sweet moan reached his ears.   
If only his first experience had been with a caring partner, like he wanted for her, to reassure Arya and himself that the act could be pleasant and offer joy and not shame.  
When her fingers started exploring his chest, monitoring what he was doing on her, Jaqen let a tear fell; Arya looked at him, she had never seen her master such emotional.   
“Am I dong wrong?”  
“No, lovely girl, a man is so glad to receive this privilege, he’d wish it is the same for him, the first time, too.”  
“A man is older and I am sure he had to do this in training.”  
“This is not training, Arya, this is us, not the order or the master forcing me.”   
Jaqen has forgotten Urnesos, his master, the brothers’ blunt suggestions.   
When her hands ventured further south, he stood still, the new desire to feel her touch, not the maid’s one, to discover if having someone he cared about would make a difference and how big.   
Arya observed his concentration, he wanted to tell her something, but his feelings were out of control, the isolation and absence of any affection for years had made a man unable to express his wants out loud, to get someone for himself. It was a request of the order, but one that Jaqen took the harsh way, believing facelessness was incompatible with whoever human connection. How wrong and fool he had been.   
Closing her fingers around his member, hearing his gasp, noticing how trembled the arm supporting him, understanding how much what she was doing affected Jaqen, gave Arya a feeling of power.   
This man had carved her from a stubborn little girl focused on vengeance in an erratic way into a young woman whose knowledge was extensive, who soon would be able to plan carefully her actions and give justice to her family.   
All through him, her teacher, her friend, her soon to be lover.  
“Are you ready?”   
She asked, he nodded.  
“Am I ready?”   
He answered touching her, the wetness she was producing was a good sign, as his smile confirmed.  
He positioned close to her core, repeating he would not hurt her, Arya put her hands on his shoulders while he slide inside her for the very first time, trusting him and concentrating on the feeling of his flesh possessing her own.   
They followed together a quiet road toward pleasure for both, Jaqen was slow, forcing himself to respect Arya’s needs, to give her time to appreciate the new experience but the moment she let herself go, shivering quietly under him, he allowed himself to go faster, deeper, to find soon his release in her. It was not the right time to explore what two bodies could do together, for now it was a matter of pure trust to forge a bond Arya wanted for a long time and Jaqen feared to admit. Now he had the proofs his lovely girl meant for him more than any other people in the world, 

Arya moved from his embrace and rolled on her side, looking at the mess between her legs; Jaqen put his feet on the floor, he had to go and prepare moon tea.   
He stood and took his clothes, turning to Arya, whose gaze was a mixture of satisfaction of being considered fully and officially a woman, appreciation for the consideration he gave her and worry for how the intimacy would change their relationship.   
“I’ll be back in five minutes.” A little sad smile from her, then he remembered the young man left alone, many years ago.   
“A man promises.” He added. “He doesn’t want to leave, but you have to drink something soon, do you understand?”   
Arya’s shocked expression lasted only for a few seconds, then she nodded – she had realized the way they had coupled could give her an unwanted pregnancy – and confirmed Jaqen the trust she had in him was complete.  
When he returned, she had cleaned herself, changed the sheets and made up the bed with covers.  
She drank from the cup, the strong taste lingered for a while on her tongue, a small price to pay, she thought, after the pleasure she had. Jaqen took back the cup and set it on the table, then turned to look at Arya, the vision of her lying on his bed was something he was afraid to be deprived from now.  
Jaqen took a breath and stepped closer, a hand on the belt of his tunic to open it.   
“A man is worried to go to Urnesos with you.” 

\---

A man was leaving the House for daily chores when his Master called him back.   
“Wait a moment, brother. A raven just arrived and the ring on its leg is from South.”  
Jaqen’s heartbeat accelerated while the Master slowly untied the ribbon and read the missive.  
The Master lowered the sheet, looked at Jaqen straight into his eyes then smiled, a rare occurrence.   
“The mission to Urnesos is revoked, our target died by natural causes a few days ago.”  
“All men must die.” Jaqen repeated automatically, but his heart was full of joy, he had to find his lovely girl soon and tell her the good news.


End file.
